This is a SMAC story I wrote based on the SMAC "Splinter Factions" I invented not long after the game came out. Interestingly, when the SMAX expansion arrived, a couple of the new factions bore striking similarities to the official offering...go me! ;

The circular chamber was decorated
in dark mahogany, with splashes of burgundy and brass serving as
accents and highlights. Set near the northern edge of the circle was
a massive desk of that same dark wood, sporting a number of hideous,
leering gargoyles on it's front face. With lights low and no
windows in the place, the end result was a murky chamber, laden with
almost tangible shadows which worked not-so-subtly on the nerves of
those few who found themselves in the innermost sanctuary of the
Hive's most deadly assassin. And if the room wasn't enough to put
visitors to the place on their guard, then surely the man behind the
massive desk, with his totally blank expression and penetrating
violet eyes did just that. It was rumored that he had slain visitors
to his lair for things as trivial as not removing their hats quickly
enough for his liking. No one could verify the rumors either way, but
none were particularly keen to do field research on the matter,
either. Thus, Harrand Ashaandi was shown every imaginable courtesy,
whether in or out of his lair.

He spun 'round in his swivel
chair a few times, taking in the site of the room and all the
treasures it contained. Hand-beaten gold masks, painted with pigments
extracted from the abundant fungus to be found all over Chiron,
painstakingly formed into exact replicas of Tribal masks honoring a
variety of ancient gods. The datalinks had their uses indeed, and not
all those uses were confined to infiltration and theft of state
secrets and proprietary research held by rival factions. There was
that of course, but the massive databanks also held a great deal of
general knowledge and information to suit almost every taste, from
the mundane to the highly esoteric. And in that vast sea of
electronic information was an enormous collection of thousands of
hi-res images, breath taking, and more than detailed enough to allow
the artisans in his employ to create tangible replicas for him.

He
smiled to himself….an expression which looked decidedly out of
place on his finely chiseled, cruel features. Such excess was unknown
to the masses who broke their backs for Chairman Yang's Hive, but
for the elite….for the inner circle of leadership, no expense was
spared and Ashaandi had quite literally a private army at his
command. Hundreds of artisans and craftsmen in bases all over Hivean
territory, two full divisions of the good Chairman's finest troops,
outfitted with the best armor and weapons money could buy,
controlling interest in four state-run brothels—which served as a
training/recruiting ground for a great many of his agents—not to
mention the six directors beneath him, each controlling no less than
thirty spies whose tendrils of influence crept out like an unseen
plague to wrap themselves around the delicate infrastructure of every
other faction on Planet, quietly infecting them, sometimes for the
purpose of industrial espionage or theft of state research, sometimes
as simple listening posts, often as platforms for creating unrest,
and occasionally as staging points for political assassination.

His
network was so vast and extensive that there simply was no corner of
Planet one could hide on that the dreaded Circle of Ashaandi could
not reach in a matter of hours. It was right that he was the most
feared man on Chiron. The silent-and-deadly right hand of Chairman
Yang. In fact, much of the Chairman's own fearsome reputation was
directly attributable to the effectiveness of Ashaandi's
black-garbed Internal Security Force, which was organized and run by
one of Ashaandi's most ruthless subordinates, Malachai Vialli.

No
two ways about it….life was good, and it was about to get better.
He had played the role of Yang's lackey and errand boy for too
long, but no longer. The stroke of midnight would spell the end of
that particular era.

It had taken years of patient planning.
Endless hours of proving himself indispensable to the Chairman who
ruled his lands with an iron fist. Ferreting out weak links in Yang's
chain of command, quietly and effectively disposing of any who would
rise to challenge him, and on occasion, engineering a few "incidents"
himself, only to expose them at exactly the right moment, thus
furthering his reputation.

Every intricate plot, every move
and counter move planned for this very day, like a chess game played
out on Chiron's world's stage, and now….completion.

The
assassin's eyes settled on one of the burgundy silk tapestries that
graced the section of wall opposite him. A simple affair really, all
one piece, with gold threads tracing delicate, intricate knot-work
patterns around the edges.

Burgundy. How strangely similar to
the color of blood.

The misplaced smile on his face grew at
the thought, and at the memory of the taste. He half-closed his eyes.
Ahhh, it had been too long, and he was restless. Hungering
for….something. Not mere pleasures of the flesh—although it was
no secret to those near him that he frequently made use of his own
brothels, often ushering hand-picked ladies to his private chamber in
threes and fours—but something more….enduring. Something with
more of a bite to it.

"Soon." He whispered to himself,
looking forward to the upcoming interrogation. "Soon."

For
now though, there was much to do. Calls to be made, final loose ends
tied up. So many wonderful details to attend to.

With gusto,
he leaned forward, elbows on his desk, and set about his work.

He
pressed one of a great many unmarked buttons on his private comm
system, and waited almost patiently for the response chime. In a
moment, the broad, brooding face of General Cho filled up the view
screen.

"My Lord Ashaandi….you honor me with this call."
The General said with a greedy glint in his eyes.

The assassin
nodded, and played the word game that the other man was so fond of.
"One final check to see that all is in readiness, noble General
Cho."

He nodded curtly, efficient as always. "I have five
thousand troops ready to seize control of 'Huddling of the People'
when you give the word! When you make your bid for independence, we
shall join you."

"Very good….I'll transmit those
orders to you later this evening. Keep your men in a state of
readiness, and expect to hear from me soon."

Next, he punched the code to
activate his private line to Chairman Yang. The Chairman answered the
call immediately, and those awful eyes bored into Ashaandi's. "You
have news?"

"I do indeed, Chairman Yang. General Cho's
plot brews thicker. He plans to betray you this very night."

"And
do you have an estimate on the disposition of the General's
forces?"

"Better than that, I have an exact count….the
General has five thousand, two hundred and fifty-six men under his
command who will follow him." He made the exact figure up off the
top of his head without missing a beat.

Yang contemplated a
moment. "Excellent work as always, Ashaandi. You have once again
proved that you are without peer when it comes to rooting out enemies
of the state….Indeed, your grasp of the conspirator's mind in
unequalled anywhere on Chiron."

Ashaandi smiled and bowed
slightly to the Chairman. "I live to serve." He said
reverently.

Yang's eyes lingered on him for a moment before
he broke the connection, and the assassin seethed. Yes, and
tonight you shall see just how deep my understanding of the
conspirator's mind truly runs!

He gave himself several
long moments to calm his rage. Now was not the time to lose control!
Not when he was so close to fulfilling his destiny!

He banged
his fists on the sturdy desk twice, almost shaking with his
rage.

"Steady." He whispered to the empty room. "Steady
now."

Breathe in….breathe out. In with the good….out
with the bad…..in with the good….out with the bad….

There.

Calm
once more, and yet more to do.

Another unmarked button on his
comm system, another span of several heartbeats as he waited for the
response chime. A fraction of a second after that, Angel's face
appeared on his view screen, a fine sheen of sweat on her
forehead.

The sense of rhythmic motion did not escape his
watchful eye.

Since she was clearly not alone, he opted for
mental communication with her.

"Entertaining your…."ward"
are you?"

She smiled sweetly and bit her bottom lip to
stifle a sigh of pleasure as the motion just off-screen increased in
both speed and intensity. In a moment, her mental reply floated to
him. "To say that you've called at a bad time would be an
understatement."

She was (understandably) impatient to
be rid of him, and was one of only a handful from whom he tolerated
occasional insubordination. He stifled a laugh and nodded
more-or-less impassively as a variety of deliciously lewd thoughts
danced in his head. "Then I shall not keep you long….keep him
occupied and content until we are ready to move."

She
nodded in response. Again, the sweet, innocent smile. "The drugs
you arranged for him worked wonders….he doesn't even know where
he is, and I think he believes he has been reunited with his
wife."

"Excellent, though I suspect our Mister
Stone will be seething once we bring him around….Enjoy yourself,
but do not forget how important he is to my plans….I need him
alive, Angel."

He saw the look of disappointment that
flashed in her eyes, but it was gone in a fraction of a second, and
she giggled like an innocent school girl and terminated the
connection, leaving Ashaandi with his thoughts.

As alluring
and seductive as Angel was though, he forced himself to banish the
thought of spending a wicked evening in her care. Certainly she was a
talented and savage lover (not to mention dangerous….more than one
person had spent his or her last moments of life locked in an
intimate embrace with his very own pet Black Widow), but there simply
wasn't time at the moment. Later however, when they had escaped the
grasp of Chairman Yang once and for all, he made himself a mental
note to reacquaint himself with Angel's savage charms.

He
had no sooner finished that thought when his comm system chimed an
incoming call.

Back to work, he thought with a sigh as
he checked the origination code to see who it was.

Ahhhh yes!
The interrogation! The blood began surging through his veins and his
eyes danced and sparkled like a child at Christmastime just wandering
down the stairs to see what Santa Claus had brought.

"Just
what the Doctor ordered." He murmured as he answered the call.

The
face of Malachai Vialli appeared on-screen and his deep, grave-dirt
voice rumbled across the connection. "My Master….the prisoner has
arrived and awaits your personal attention."

"Alvin
Shepphard….Assistant Director of Research, Lab 3?" He inquired,
already knowing the answer and warming to the task at hand with each
passing second.

"The very same….shall I send him in?"

"By
all means." Ashaandi said with a thin, fierce smile. "By all
means."

In a way, he pitied the man about to enter his
private chamber. He found himself practically bursting with raw, edgy
energy in anticipation of tonight's big event, and, given that
today was his last official day on the job, Alvin Shepphard deserved
extra special attention.

As if on queue, and summoned by
merely thinking his name, the doors to his sanctuary swung silently
open, and a pair of massive, black-clad guards shoved the diminutive
researcher roughly into the room.

They departed without a
word, and Harrand Ashaandi locked eyes with the man before him.

His
stare alone shattered what little resolve the terrified man had left.
He broke eye contact with his captor and chanced a quick look around,
then squeezed his eyes tightly shut. "Pl…please….I'll tell
you anything you want….anything at all…..I…."

"Silence!"
Ashaandi shouted as he half-rose from his chair. The man seemed to
almost shrink back inside himself, and the assassin found himself
warming to the game….feeding on the other man's fears.

Yes….this was what he needed.

Exactly
this.

He waited until the man's trembling had subsided a
bit, and then stood slowly, opened one of his desk drawers and
produced a small hand drill. His voice was soft and gentle as he met
the other man's gaze, and his hands toyed idly with the bit. "It
is understood that you will tell me exactly what I want to know."
He said in a sing-song voice. "That you will tell me what I want to
know is a foregone conclusion."

He stepped around the desk,
and the researcher shrank back further, until he encountered the
gently curved wall of the chamber.

"The only question that
remains to be answered," Ashaandi said as he took another leisurely
step forward, "Is how much pain you can stand before your body
simply shuts down and the light and life departs from your
eyes."

Alvin Shepphard let out a pathetic low moan, and
Ashaandi noted with faint amusement that he had wet himself in his
terror.

"What is it our good Chairman says?" He was still
speaking in that quiet, sing-song voice as he drew closer, a
supremely confident viper casually stalking a little field mouse. "He
rambles on so when he gets going that I confess I barely pay
attention to the old fool, but now and again he says something
genuinely useful or wise" He paused in his approach, and got a
far-off look in his eye. "Something about pain being information
before the senses? And he's right, even though that's just the
tip of the iceberg."

He was right next to the frightened
researcher now, bending close and practically whispering in the man's
ear. "I'll show you, Alvin Shepphard….I'll introduce you to
things you never even dreamed of. Levels of agony that border on
obscenely pleasurable….it will split your brain into two camps, one
side begging for the release of death and the other aching and
yearning to see what lies beyond."

The scientist could
not….would not meet Ashaandi's gaze, so the assassin grabbed him
just under the chin and gently but firmly turned his head until their
eyes met once more.

"I am a god." He told the man simply,
an eerie madness lighting up his violet eyes. "I am the god of
pleasure and pain….release and death….I know you are frightened
right now, and you should be, but nod if you understand where I am
about to take you."

Slowly, the man before him nodded, and
he stroked his prisoner's forehead gently. "Good….that's
good."

He straightened and murmured something to himself.
Something so low that the researcher next to him could not have
heard, but if he had heard, it would probably have sent him
into hysterics. He caught the last part though, and it made him
flinch. "….and they were so beautiful in their agony….ah
yes….so beautiful."

Ashaandi turned. "I'm going to
make you beautiful. You will be a temple, Alvin Shepphard….a temple
dedicated to exquisite pain."

He smiled then, and unleashed
the demons lurking in the dark recesses of his imagination, and he
was right.

Alvin Shepphard was introduced to levels of agony
he never knew existed. The screams that echoed through the bowels of
the Great Clustering were a testament to that, and as Ashaandi
listened to the sounds the dying man made, his heart soared and the
blood raced that much faster through his veins. He traveled with his
prisoner down those avenues of pain….a tour guide….a
Master.

Alvin Shepphard took a very long time to die, and
throughout his long spiral toward that final blackness, one whispered
phrase stayed with him to the end.

"So beautiful….so
beautiful…."

OoO

Fourteen
Hours Later

His lust for pain sated, he was much more
focused for the rest of the day. Alvin Shepphard had been so good
for him in that way….truly a catalyst for the greatest revolution
ever conceived, and as such, deserving of a special mention in his
memoirs, should he ever decide to sit down and write them.

Alvin
Shepphard….a hero then.

Yes. He liked the sound of
that.

Decisively, he punched the button on his comm system
linked to General Cho's headquarters. Thirty minutes earlier, he'd
sent the "go ahead" message which had no doubt begun the
General's revolution, and he was anxious to hear how it was
going.

In seconds, the General's grease-streaked face filled
the screen, eyes dark with rage. "I have been betrayed!" He
thundered, and Ashaandi heard all-too-clearly the booming sounds of
Chairman Yang's field guns going off all around the city. Beneath
that sound, but not completely drowned out was the sound of Yang's
war planes flying overhead. If they hadn't begun already, the
bombing runs would start soon, and the city would be pounded to
dust.

"Yes, General Cho….you have indeed been
betrayed….but take heart….while Yang's forces are focusing
their attention on you and your ill-fated rebellion, I will have more
than ample opportunity to spirit those loyal to me out of the bases
they're stationed at. We will be gone like ghosts before Yang even
realizes what has happened."

"I would have given my life
for you! My men and I would have served you without question!"
General Cho shouted again, spittle flying from his mouth in his
fury.

"Oh…make no mistake General, you are going to
give your life for me, just not in the way you had originally
envisioned….and as to your men, they will serve me better as
corpses to cover my escape…..Farewell General."

He
terminated the connection before Cho could respond and immediately
punched a series of buttons to establish a conference link.

In
seconds, his six deputy commanders were all on-line, their faces
anxious, and Ashaandi looked them over with pride.

I'm in
command of thousands of raving psychotics, controlled by half a dozen
barely controlled psychotics. He mused to himself with something
approaching dark glee. This world will never even know what hit
it.

He took a deep breath, and addressed his followers.
"Tonight, we break from Chairman Yang to form our own society!"
He bellowed, and though he could not see them all—his transmission
to his six deputies was being split onto literally thousands of
secure channels and broadcast out to all of his followers as they
prepared to depart—he could certainly feel them being drawn
in almost magnetically.

Allowing himself to revel in that for
half a second, he took a deep breath and continued. "It is right
that you fear me." He told his masses of followers. "You all know
that I will brook not even the slightest disobedience, and that
punishments will be swift and severe….but if you demonstrate your
value to my inner circle, you will be invited to join, and any
desire you name shall be made yours! We ride….now!"

He
ended the transmission and took one final look around his beautiful
sanctuary.

"The one I create for myself will be greater
still." He whispered to himself. "Greater still."

And
with that, he left the chamber to find his personal transport.

(to
be continued….)

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